After the Storm
by MakorraLove97
Summary: Daenerys slowly closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, shaky breath of crisp air. There was a part of her that knew she should not be where she was; Jon should be resting and regaining his strength while she mourned for the death of her dragon alone in her cabin. However, as much as she silently yelled at herself to turn away from him, she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave him.


**Hello lovely readers! So, what did you all think about that AMAZING finale? I swear this seriously has to be one of the best series that has ever been created. I will honestly never know how people could not enjoy watching Game of Thrones. It's just so incredible. How are we all supposed to wait for the next and final season? How are we all going to survive when the series finally meets its end? :(**

 **Anyway! Jon and Daenerys. I just... _ugh_. I have no words for those two. While I completely am disgusted by incest, I just can't _not_ love Jonerys. I see so many people hate on the ship, yet just look at those two together. The way he looks at her makes my heart (and I'm sure hers as well) do all kinds of flips, and then have you all seen how she watches him? She's amazed by him, and she can't help but love him as he loves her. Let's be honest: they _both_ deserve the Iron Throne. Jon and Dany are excellent leaders, especially when they are united. ****They keep each other balanced, and they would rule the Seven Kingdoms the best possible way. I am so freaking happy they finally kissed and made love to one another! That was just a beautiful scene and I just cannot wait to see more of them in Season 8. I NEED JONERYS BABIES!  
**

 **Er... yeah. Now, enough with my ranting because I could literally fangirl about these two forever... This is just a random fanfic idea I got and couldn't help but write it even though it's my very first Jonerys story... It's usually really hard for me to write stories for _Game of Thrones_ , but nevertheless I hope you all still like it! This could _possibly_ turn out to be a multi-chapter story, but as of right now I'm not entirely sure. * If you have any suggestions, I'm completely open to hearing them! Just leave a comment after you've finished reading or feel free to send me a PM. I would actually appreciate it because it'd certainly help me with my writer's block.**

 **Please leave a comment below once you've finished reading! I would greatly appreciate it. All feedback/opinion/thoughts help me as a writer tremendously; plus, I'd love to know what you all think of it!**

 **With that all said, thank you very much for reading! :)**

 **I DO NOT OWN GAME OF THRONES AND/OR A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.**

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 **WARNING : If you do not like it, then please do not be hateful in the comments. Constructive criticism is allowed, but I will NOT tolerate any hate. If you don't like the story, then do not read.**

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Daenerys had long since lost track of how long she had been silently sitting in the small cabin on one of her ships. A single word had not yet tumbled past her lips; the only thing the Dragon Queen had done since she snuck into the dark room was watch the unconscious man – no, _king_ – with sorrowful, violet eyes.

Occasionally she heard the sounds of her men wandering about and working on deck as they sailed through the ocean, but she paid no mind to what was happening on the other side of the wooden door. She disregarded the creaking of the ship and the high-pitched hum of the waves that carried them to their new destination. None of that mattered. Instead, she welcomed the quiet and allowed utter silence to engulf the room, filling her ears with nothing except for the bittersweet noise of his soft, yet ragged breathing that shattered the silence like glass.

She couldn't help but stare at Jon as he lied unconscious on the bed with furs wrapped around his naked body to keep him warm. Through her tears she had ordered whoever was standing behind her at the time to have his clothes dried immediately, yet it's been hours and he still had nothing to wear.

The image of Jon Snow's limp body riding on a horse would forever remain embedded into her memory. It seemed many things that happened that terrible day would stay with her until she drew her last breath. He was so cold, and she could have sworn he was dead by the time they reached him. Throughout her short life she had been through hell and always fought her way back. It was never easy, but she somehow managed every single time. Yet even with all she's accomplished through the long and hard years, she just knew that her heart could not take any more heartache. The blood that flowed through her veins and pumped her heart had become tar as it struggled to maintain a steady beat.

She was drowning in sorrow and regret; the utter pain she felt tore her apart from the inside. There had never been a time when she felt so incredibly raw as if the winds of winter were still blowing right through her skin. She had already lost a piece of her heart forever… she doubted it could handle much more.

Daenerys helplessly watched as her beloved dragon – her _child_ – was brutally murdered before her by a creature she once refused to believe existed. Her body froze and all the air escaped her lungs while she witnessed the impossible happen to the magical being she had raised since his birth. _Viserion_. She couldn't even shed a tear at that moment; shock seeped through her bones, paralyzing her and leaving her cold and empty, and lost. As far as she knew, her dragons could not be killed. They were her children and they were extraordinary… so why was one of her precious children currently sinking to the bottom of the icy cold waters somewhere Beyond the Wall?

Now as she sat on the edge of the bed beside Jon and replayed the painful and horrific scene of Viserion's tragic death before her tear-filled eyes, she knew deep down she would not have been able to survive losing another being she deeply cared about.

It then suddenly dawned on her. _Since when have I started to care for this man?_

Even though she would never admit it, and she refused to be caught doing so, she found it nearly impossible to stop herself from reaching out and touching his bare chest from time to time. Her gentle fingers ghosted over the mysterious curved scars that marked his body, and every few moments she fed the urge to place her shaking palm over where his heart was so she could feel its beat.

How long has it been since she wandered into the cabin? How long has she sat beside him, praying for his eyes to pry open?

How long has she been holding her breath?

Daenerys slowly closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, shaky breath of crisp air. Her trembling hands were folded neatly in her lap, yet her fingers itched to touch him again. There was a part of her that knew she should not be where she was; Jon should be resting and regaining his strength in private while she mourned for the death of her dragon alone in her cabin. However, as much as she silently yelled at herself to turn away from him, she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave him.

Jorah had desperately tried to remain at her side and take care of her, but she repeatedly told him to leave her be until he finally respected her wishes. She understood that the dragons meant a great deal to him as well and she was aware that he was just trying to be there for her – to be a shoulder for her to cry on – but she did not want Jorah. She would always care deeply for the older man, but he was not what she needed.

He was not Jon Snow.

"What was I thinking?" Her lips quivered as she murmured under her breath, "I should have believed you." Her eyes were still closed and Jon was still not awake, yet the words seemed to uncontrollably roll off her tongue and spill from her mouth.

She did not even bother to even try to believe the stories about an Army of the Dead or these ice creatures. Despite all of the warnings from the King in the North, she was instead too obsessed with winning the Iron Throne from Cersei to truly realize the real threat that was coming for them all. The only thing she had cared about was defeating Cersei and ruling the Seven Kingdoms, yet there were far more important things to worry about.

In order for her to believe any of it, she had to see it. Well, she certainly saw it. The threat was real. _It's always been real._

"I'm sorry," she heard herself whisper; her voice broke with emotion. She then repeated with a sad shake to the head, "I should have believed you." _Viserion should not have been the one to pay for my sinful mistake._

A warm tear slipped from the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek, leaving a red trace in her fair skin as more lied aching in her throat. A shot of pain fired up her left arm as her long nails dug into the thin skin of her wrist. She captured her bottom lip between her white row of teeth, and she bit down with all her might to keep herself from breaking down before the unconscious man she had grown quite closely to.

Daenerys sat there for what felt like an eternity, refusing to move a single muscle in her body. She didn't want to face anyone on the other side of the door; for so long, ever since her brother died, she had put on a strong façade that masked her what she truly felt day by day. She was afraid. She had an army that would give their lives for her but that did not make her feel any less alone.

Jorah loved her. Daario had loved her. Missandei trusted as well as cared for her. Tyrion… well, she only hoped he truly supported her. Yet, despite all those who pledged their loyalty to her and believed in her, deep down she still felt lost and afraid. She was a young girl that was born into a world that forced her to grow up incredibly fast. She would always long for the beautiful house with the red door and a lemon tree just sitting outside her window, yet it broke her to know she would never have that.

She knew she now wanted the Iron Throne more than anything, but that was the only thing she truly knew. Everything else…

Her eyes slowly opened and her gaze rested on Jon's peaceful face. It amazed her how content he appeared when he was asleep; it was as if none of his burdens and responsibilities could reach him wherever his mind took him.

 _Perhaps there is a red door where he is_ , she heard the voice that sounded awfully like her whisper inside her head. _Maybe there's a lemon tree, too._

She then shook her head, her throat holding back something between a scream and a sob. She needed to stop thinking about nonsense. She needed to put all aside and be the Queen she was meant to be. Two of her alliances were gone, one of her dragons were gone, Jon was…

Who was she attempting to fool?

"Please come back," she whispered, her voice small and nearly inaudible, yet it seemed to echo loudly in the small, dark cabin.

Daenerys swept her dry lips with her tongue, and was perhaps about to mutter something else when Jon's eyelids very slowly fluttered open, revealing brown eyes shining with tears. Then, for what felt like a lifetime, everything froze.

For a moment, his face twisted into confusion then panic, and then confusion again as he gradually regained consciousness. When he swallowed he cringed, his throat painfully dry and burning. His vision blurred with fatigue at first but it did not take long for Daenerys Targaryen to appear clearly beside him, looking stunning as always, yet this time also… devastated.

"I'm sorry," he almost immediately said hoarsely, way before she could even breathe his name. His eyes lingered on her beautiful – _absolutely breathtaking_ – face, noticing the tears that stained her rosy cheeks. His chest ached as his heart seemed to have shattered into a million of small pieces that could probably never be put back together after what his choices did to the broken woman before him.

The second he apologized he saw the walls she built around her emotions crumble, and he helplessly watched as a fresh wave of grief took her. The air was stripped from his body, leaving him breathless. How could he ever make it up to her? How could he ever show her how truly sorry he was for all that happened?

A pained look crossed his face, tears glinting in his soft brown eyes. He drearily shook his head. "I'm so sorry."

She was shaking her head then, but her tongue twisted in her mouth and she couldn't form any of the words she wanted to say on her own. Her head slightly fell forward as she said nothing. She felt her throat close immediately, and she gasped as warm tears once again filled her eyes.

Jon had only gotten to know the strong, stubborn, and fierce side of Daenerys. She was more than capable of taking care of herself even if she had no dragons. She demanded respect, yet she was not cruel even in the slightest. She was relentless, especially when it came to taking what was rightfully hers, and utterly determined. She knew what she wanted, and she would walk through fire and brace though Hell to reach the very top.

Now, for the very first time, she was falling completely apart right before his eyes. He didn't think; he instantly reached over and grasped her hand in his, and squeezed tightly so she knew he was there for her.

To his surprise, she did not pull back or even look at him with a bizarre look. Instead, her fingers curled around his, holding on as if he became her lifeline. Her thumb gently grazed the back of his hand, savoring the sweet feeling of his skin touching hers.

When she raised her head to look him in the eyes again, he couldn't help but make her understand how he was drowning in regret for what he did to her – what he did to them all.

"I wish I could take it back," he whispered, his voice laced with guilt. "I wish we've never gone."

Daenerys repeatedly shook her head back and forth as if she did not agree with a word he was saying to her. She blinked her eyes as fast as she could to keep the tears at bay, and then she finally found her voice.

"I don't," she murmured, her voice on the verge of cracking. "If we hadn't gone I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know."

There was a brief pause as she tried to compose herself, but it was to no avail. She was falling apart the more and more she relived the terrible day and it became impossible even for her to mask what she was feeling any longer.

"And now I know," she breathed, trembling as she spoke. _If only I would have chosen to believe him in the beginning. If only I would have put my trust in a stranger… in Jon Snow._

Their eyes locked together and a heavy silence settled between them. His lips parted several times as if he was going to say something, but he was lost for words. Was there anything he could say or do to make this even a small bit better?

Could she ever forgive him?

"The dragons are my children," she said, straining for him to understand what she was telling him. Usually she would tell people how the dragons were her children with such pride; she would always wear a wide smile on her face as her violet eyes shinned as if they were dancing flames. Yet, not this time. Unlike all of the other countless times, her eyes were dark and full of unshed tears, and her tone wavered as she tried to get the words out.

She sucked in a deep breath through her quivering lips, filling her lungs, and then slowly exhaling through her nostrils. Although his eyes briefly glanced downward to take in how close she was sitting beside his body and how their hands were joined together, she never looked away. She _needed_ him to really understand what was going through her head – her _heart._

She waited until his soft and caring brown irises held her gaze before she continued through gritted teeth. "They are the _only_ children I will ever have. Do you understand?"

Jon tried to speak, but his answer fell off his tongue incoherently, so instead he simply nodded his head. Her hand was tightly gripping his as if she was afraid to let go, but he didn't mind; he would gladly give her all the strength she needed because as much as he tried to ignore it, he was falling for the beautiful and passionate Dragon Queen.

"We are going to destroy the Night King and his army." A fire suddenly lit up in her eyes, and he was suddenly seeing the broken woman start to try piecing herself back together again. "And we'll do it together."

And it seemed she needed his help in doing so, just as he needed hers.

"You have my word." She was a fool for not trusting Jon earlier on when they first met. Viserion paid the price for that mistake; she would have herself murdered in the most brutal way before she allowed that to happen again to one of her other dragons.

He didn't know what to say; he wasn't sure he would even be _able_ to say anything to her. A part of him found it hard to believe it was even happening, not after everything they have both gone through in the short amount of time they've known one another. Yet, the other part of him knew, without a doubt in his mind, that even when he initially asked for her help and she denied him that she had _wanted_ to help him. Whether or not she fully believed what he was telling her at the time, she did seem to want to do whatever she could to aid him, just as long as he bent the knee first.

Although he ultimately believed they were all children playing a damn game when the real threat was coming for them all, he did understand where she was coming from. She needed the North's support, and that bargain was the only way for her to get it. She would help him if he helped her.

She was thinking like a leader, and he respected that.

But she was a good person with a good heart, and he saw it when they were in the cave how much she wanted to forget her part of the deal and simply just help him. Yet, she couldn't. He may not have agreed with her, but that did not mean he didn't understand.

Now… now everything was different. After witnessing one of her children dying, she realized that it did not matter who sat on the Iron Throne. Winter was waiting for no one. The Night King did not care who claimed themselves as King or Queen of the Seven Kingdoms – he was coming for every single one of them, whether they believed in him and his army or not.

Death was coming, and it was growing closer and closer to all of them as the days dreadfully passed.

Jon swallowed over the burning lump that formed in his throat. "Thank you, Dany." He didn't exactly know what made him call her that; he probably should have addressed her properly considering who she was, but in the moment it just felt right.

Suddenly a small smile graced her lips at the mention of the nickname she once had; a nickname that was given to her another lifetime ago. "Dany…" She breathed out a small laugh. "Who was the last person to call me that? I'm not sure. Was it my brother?"

"Mm," she shook her head sadly. Viserys… when was the last time he crossed her mind? Viserion was named after him – he was supposed to do all that her brother could not – but now they were both gone. "Not the company you want to keep."

"Alright, not Dany." His eyebrows slowly drew together as he deeply thought about what he was going to say next. There was a long, drawn out pause between them, but neither seemed to mind the blissful silence.

She could tell he wanted to say something else, yet she guessed he didn't know how exactly to say it. She felt that way a lot when she was with him, so instead of saying anything she merely remained quiet, allowing him to take his time to gather his thoughts.

His lips felt dry from nerves but the soft look in her eyes as she held his gaze and the gentle smile that stretched across her face eased him. It was purely her that made his decision one of the easiest things he had ever done.

Jon's thumb caressed the back of her hand as his eyes scanned her face, focusing on and memorizing every little detail about her. There was no time for love, yet his heart knew what it wanted. Unless he ripped out his heart and destroyed it – _no_. Even then he doubted he could ever stop the growing feelings he had for her.

As he looked up at her, he almost forgot there was a world beside just the two of them; there was a world on the other side of the door. Even so, nothing else mattered. Nothing else seemed to be as important as Daenerys.

She wasn't this terrible girl who was destined to follow her father's footsteps and become the Mad Queen. She wasn't this cruel and vital being who wanted to see everything burn around her as she fed innocents to her dragons. And she wasn't a child who did not know what it would take to be Queen.

She deserved the Seven Kingdoms not because they _belonged_ to her; it was because she proved herself. She sincerely cared about people, regardless of their ranks, and she truly wanted to make the world a better place – and that started with killing the Night King and his army.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and then quietly said the words she had been desperately waiting as well as wanting to hear: "How about My Queen?"

A look of total disbelief washed over the face of Daenerys Targaryen as he said those four words to her. Her lips curved into a small smile as the meaning of his words slowly registered in her head. _He is supporting me. He… He believes in me_.

Jon's gaze fell from her face then as he took a look at his bare, scarred chest. "I'd, um, bend the knee but –" His voice trailed off then, and it was quite obvious he was in no condition to get out of the small cot. He was far from having any strength in him to move, but regardless he still wanted her to know she was not alone. He wanted her to know she had his complete trust in her.

"What about those who swore allegiance to you?" Despite how happy she was to know he supported her, she could only imagine what would happen to him when his people found out their King was, in their eyes, betraying them. It didn't matter how much she wanted this from Jon – it was _not_ worth his life.

"They'll come to see you for what you are." He knew that he had come to see her for what she was. His first impression of her was utterly wrong, and he would make sure to the best of his abilities to make sure the Northerners who crowned him King did not copy his error.

Daenerys' breath hitched while sobs desperately tried to escape, yet remained trapped inside her. Her small hand still refused to let go to his larger one, their fingers twisting and locking together. His calloused palm felt good – felt _right_ – against her soft skin, and she was truthfully dreading the moment they would eventually have to part.

Her vision splintered as an ocean of hot tears welled in her eyes. He was taking an enormous risk in what he was doing, but she was beyond determined to make sure she did not disappoint him, that she didn't fail him.

In a shaky voice, she whispered, "I hope I deserve it." She knew many believed she would become mad such as her father did. They did not trust her to take care of them and make decisions that would drastically affect them for the rest of their lives and then all the lives after they were gone. They did not understand or believe she wanted to break the wheel and do better than all the other leaders before her time. She only hoped they would not judge her for her father's crimes and, instead, they would see the real her and what her true intentions were for the Realm just as Jon Snow had done.

He glanced at their adjoined hands before his eyes could no longer bear looking anywhere other than her flawless face. He smiled softly at her and nodded once. "You do."

They both then fell quiet and simply enjoyed listening to each other breathe along with the soothing sound of the calm waves crashing against the ship. Daenerys had fallen in love with the way Jon tenderly stroked her knuckles and the way he looked at her as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

As peaceful as it all was, she knew she could not be doing this. Not now. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him, but she had no other choice. She couldn't be doing this, especially not with Jon Snow. She just lost one of her children and he was injured and –

"You should get some rest," she heard herself say. If she had it her way she would remain by his side until he no longer wanted her there, but her people must be worried about her. She knew Jorah was waiting to talk to her and she was sure Ser Davos had questions. She needed to go.

She expected him to agree and let her go, but when she stood he grasped onto her hand even tighter than before. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him curiously. "What ar–"

"Stay," Jon said, his voice still dry and raspy. He didn't know why he said it; he was actually surprised he had the courage to do so, but he just couldn't watch her turn her back and walk out the door. He wasn't ready for her to leave him quite yet. "Just… stay."

Her eyebrows curled toward the bridge of her nose and her lips parted as if to say something, a protest most likely, but he quickly cut her off. "Please, Daenerys."

Then, a soft smile graced her lips. Without a word she sat back down on the edge of the cot with her legs tightly pressed together and this time closer to his upper body. She lifted her hand and gingerly placed her warm palm on his bare chest, her index finger lightly tracing the curved scar that was above his heart.

He was surprised at her boldness, yet he didn't mind her touching the scars that decorated his chest. Normally he kept them well hidden from any other eyes, but strangely not her. Not anymore.

"Ser Davos did mention that you took a knife to the heart for your people," she muttered under her breath. A single tear escaped her eye and silently slid down her cheek as her eyes found his pained face once more. "I had no idea when he said that he meant _this_."

She could practically hear the voice inside her head yell at her to stop being nosy and leave the man be. Whatever happened… it was none of her business. She had no right to pry into one of the darkest moments that happened to him in his past. Nevertheless, her hand would not move from his chest; she simply could not pull away. And the words had already spilled out of her mouth, leaving her unable to take them back.

Jon shook his head. "It was a long time ago." He masked the tremendous pain that shot through his arm as he carefully lifted his tired limb, his fingers brushing a strand of her gold, almost silver, hair out of her eye. "I made a decision that I believed in – a decision that I knew was the right one – but apparently I couldn't please everyone."

"Mm," she hummed, knowing the feeling all to well. "I've learned that lesson a long time ago. No matter what you do or how hard you try, it's quite evident that as a leader you cannot please everyone involved."

She still wanted to ask how it happened and who would do such a terrible thing to him, however she knew it wasn't her place. It was private and there was no need to bring up painful memories while he was recovering. It was in the past and that was where it should remain.

"Well," Daenerys started with a teasing grin, "it just proves that I am right about you."

He felt the corner of his lips tug upward into a small, crooked smile as he quirked a questioning eyebrow at the Dragon Queen. "Is that so? And what, dare I ask, would that be?"

"Oh you know," she laughed. The sound of her sweet, pure laughter was enough to ease all his worries and all the pain he was in; she made him forget about all the terrors that happened and were still yet to come. "You have a kind heart, Jon Snow. You must be the only pure man that has ever walked on this world."

"I wouldn't exactly say th–"

"I would," she interrupted, refusing to give him the mere opportunity to deny the truth. "Even if you don't see it, I do. I am sure that is one of the many reasons why they crowned you the King in the North. You not only have the people's respect, but they love and trust you. I honestly can't imagine why wouldn't they."

Jon noticed the way she still had her palm resting on his chest, and he couldn't help but softly place his own hand on top of hers. "You weren't lying when you said you have grown fond of the King in the North."

"No," she said sweetly as she gazed down into his warm eyes. "No, I was not lying at all."

Daenerys then grew serious at once. She felt a hard lump form in her throat, her stomach churning a bit. "In fact," she began, her voice slightly wavering, "I don't know what I would have done if you did not survive. If you wo–"

"I'm alright," he quickly said, not allowing her to finish explaining to him her fears. "I'm alright, Daenerys. A bit of pain, yes, but I believe it's safe to say that I am alive."

"You almost _weren't_ alright, Jon."

"But I am," he whispered to her. He lifted her hand from his chest and brought it to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles.

Another tear traveled down Daenerys' face, and then another and another. "I should have stayed. I left with the others, leaving your fate up to thousands of dead men. You matter to me and instead I –"

"You did what was necessary," Jon said, shaking his head. "After what happened to Viserion… You could not risk losing anything or anyone else. It was my fault for what happened to one of your dragons. I would not want you to suffer the pain of losing a–"

"And what about you?" She abruptly asked. Her eyes were wide open, and her lilac irises were full of regret and sorrow and fear.

"When Viserion…" Daenerys paused, swallowing hard. She was trying to control her emotions so she would not fully cry in front of him, but it was growing harder and harder the more she spoke about her beloved dragon that was left to freeze below the ice. "When Viserion died my heart shattered. Every bit of air was squeezed out of my lungs until I was sure I could no longer breathe. I know I will _never_ be over his death. How could I? That alone is enough pain that would last me beyond a lifetime. But you… Under no circumstances would I still be here if you were gone, too."

"Forget about me not be able to risk losing anything or anyone. I would not be able to _handle_ losing another person that is so close to my heart. Do you understand? The people I care about mean more to me than the Iron Throne ever will. You made me see that. There are much more important things than sitting on a chair with no one beside me."

"Cersei lost three of her children," Daenerys hysterically continued. The dam finally broke inside her and the tears streamed down her face, staining her cheeks and rolling off her chin. "I _cannot_ lose my other two. I won't. And I _cannot_ lose you as well, all right?"

His lips parted, but no sound came forth. He was lost for words as she poured her feelings out to him. He had not the slightest idea of how to make her feel even just a small bit better. She was still devastated over the loss of her dragon, and now they were both growing closer to one another… He could not promise her that he would survive the Great War; he would not give her false hope or make promises he could not keep.

Jon Snow had never really been one who had a way with words, so instead he gently pulled at her arm, gesturing her to lie down beside him on the small cot. "Come here," he whispered, praying to the Gods that what he was trying to do was okay while also hoping she would comply with his request.

Still holding his eyes with her own, she did not hesitate before she carefully lied down on her side right on top of the furs that covered his body. Facing him, she rested her head on his shoulder as he securely wrapped his arm around her, pulling her hard against his body.

Neither one of them really knew what they were doing. They both were quite clever when it came to strategizing and thinking ahead before they made decisions, but this was entirely different. They didn't know if it was right or wrong, and they were clueless when it came to knowing how the rest of the world would take Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow having developing feelings for one another.

 _It's interesting, these heroes you name,_ she remembered Tyrion saying to her not long ago. _Drogo, Jorah, Daario, even this… Jon Snow. They all fell in love with you._

 _Jon Snow's not in love with me_ , she had said back because surely it was impossible for someone like him to love someone like her. They barely knew each other. His only concern was the White Walkers and their army, therefore he couldn't…

 _Oh, my mistake_ , her Hand was quick with his reply like always. _I suppose he stares at you longingly because he's hopeful for a successful military alliance._

She glanced up at Jon and immediately she felt her face grow hot as her cheeks turned a dark shade of crimson. He was staring down at her just like Tyrion had described; tenderness and desire swarm those dark brown eyes of his, and for a second she forgot to breathe, her heart skipping a beat.

Although she had been angry at her Hand since she lost two of her greatest allies, she sometimes forgot how much Tyrion really knew. He was brilliant at reading people, and it seemed he also knew Jon Snow pretty well.

Maybe he had been staring at her longingly, and maybe she had been doing the same.

She let her eyelids slowly flutter shut, tears burning behind them. Viserion was gone because she became careless; she would not do the same with Jon. She abandoned the body of her child to rot under the icy waters alone and left Jon behind knowing very well his chances of survival were minimal. But that would never happen again.

When she felt Jon's warm breath tickle past her ear, Daenerys breathed in deeply and became lost in him. His scent. His feel. It was the calm after the storm that had only just begun and she wanted to savor every single second of it. She felt him press a loving kiss to the top of her head as he caressed her hand that was still lying on top of his chest where his heart was. The fingers of his other hand ghosted over her covered stomach, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Daenerys didn't know how things would be or even how either of them would react toward one another tomorrow or the next day, but she forced the invading thought far away from her mind. They both had a tragic and terrifying day – _this_ is what they needed now. Besides, she had a feeling they were not going to separate any time soon. Deep down, she believed that the King in the North, too, had grown used to the Mother of Dragons.


End file.
